<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Every Morning by glutenfreerye</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24144754">Every Morning</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/glutenfreerye/pseuds/glutenfreerye'>glutenfreerye</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Lesbian Relationship, F/F, Just all fluff, Post-Canon, Post-War</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 18:40:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>806</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24144754</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/glutenfreerye/pseuds/glutenfreerye</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s comfort in routine, and Adora has always been a creature of habit.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adora/Catra (She-Ra)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>67</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Every Morning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey y'all! This is just a hastily written thing based off a Tumblr ask I got (you should send me more at glutenfreerye, I'm bored as hell and don't want to do any ACTUAL work). I'm not ready for s5 so this is how I cope. Happy Reading!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There’s comfort in routine, and as much as Adora’s life has changed––as much as it’s been turned on its head time and time again––that’s something that’s remained the same. From the strict militaristic structure of the Horde to the bureaucratic humdrum of post-war diplomacy, she secretly thrived in a cookie cutter world.<br/>
Her days were far different now that the war was won. There was no need for the mighty warrior princess anymore. At least not in the traditional sense. The first few months were the busiest, consisting of tours all across Etheria to assess the damage, offering reparations, easing the pain of lives lost too soon… It wasn’t a mission Glimmer or any of the other Princesses could very well take on (what with each of them having to deal with their own kingdom’s affairs) so it fell on Adora to travel far and wide as a glorified damage assessor.</p>
<p>When a certain former Horde Force Captain volunteered to accompany her, either from prescribed guilt, or penitence, or some unspoken congelation of emotions that no one had the energy to unpack, they were met with surprisingly little resistance. And thus, they set off on a new beginning. It was rocky, and progress was never meant to be linear. Months have passed since they departed, and with time came healing, and new routines. </p>
<p>Morning was always Adora’s favorite part of the day. No matter where in the world they were, or how late the two of them had stayed awake the night before, she was the first to rise. The sun would filter in through the slightest of gaps in the curtains (something Catra complained about incessantly yet never made any attempt to remedy) and draw her out of her slumber. She would spend the first few minutes of consciousness simply taking in her surroundings. Breathing. Allowing herself to exist in the here and now, not as some piece in a game larger than life, but as herself. She’d relish in the tranquil stillness of the room around her, devoid of the tension she’d grown accustomed to during the war. </p>
<p>Then, the impending doom was so heavy it weighed on her from the moment she awoke, threatening to crush her before she had the chance to fight it. Now, the only thing threatening to crush her was the comforting weight of an overgrown kitten splayed halfway across her chest.</p>
<p>She had a fair amount of time before Catra would inevitably awake, too. Those moments were spent in quiet contemplation, wandering thoughts grounded by the warmth emanating from the body on top of her. Each breath brought a tickling sensation wherever her exposed flesh met tan fur, and like clockwork she’d find herself running her fingers through the tufts with little to no thought at all. Adora didn’t remember exactly when they’d (re)fallen into the habit of sleeping together, or when the simple act of sharing a bed blurred into something more, but she wasn’t going to complain when it yielded such sweet results to her every morning. In the beginning, they’d awake tangled in one another’s arms and guiltily roll apart, as if ashamed to succumb to a happy ever after so soon after a devastating war. It took a while (and one too many brooms-to-the-head from Razz) for Adora to come to terms that maybe-just maybe-she deserved a happy ending. </p>
<p>Soon enough those mismatched eyes would slowly blink awake, and Catra would shake the remnants of sleep from her body in one swift spasm. Adora’s breath would catch when their eyes first met, which would draw a lazy smirk from the girl on top of her, and you’d think that after all this time the effect would have dulled, but the feelings swelling inside her chest never waned. She’d mentioned this to Catra before, who promptly turned a fair shade of pink and tried to deflect the confession with a poorly worded insult. (It was cute, and therefore Adora made a note to tell her again and again just how much Catra made her feel.)</p>
<p>That was also something they were working on: communication. They’d always been good at non-verbal communication: the charged looks from across a battlefield or the hesitation behind pulled punches when it came time to be up-close-and-personal were evidence of that. But it came to be understood that what was left unsaid deserved to be voiced, too, and that’s when Adora’s favorite part of their morning routine came to be. Because, no matter what, when they were finally forced from the comfort of the bed and made to face the day ahead of them, their hands would find each other, eyes would lock, and the words would fall out in near-perfect unison: “I love you.”</p>
<p>There’s comfort in routine, and Adora has always been a creature of habit.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>